


Inklings of Regret

by Klaudie



Series: Inklings [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:26:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaudie/pseuds/Klaudie
Summary: Lovino is dead. He's dead. And he won't be coming back. No matter what we say, what we do, he is dead. And he isn't coming back. Sequel to Inklings of Emotion. I would recommend reading that first. R/R





	1. Prologue: Immortality

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my FFN account. Warning: I would not recommend reading this story until you've read Inklings of Emotion. This story is meant to take place after that, and although you can read this without reading the backstory, I wouldn't recommend it.

Prologue

Immortality

Feliciano's P.O.V.

* * *

Immortality. Over the course of many years, immortality is the one thing that humans have consistantly hunted for, tirelessly. It has been the ultimate quest, the one goal that most, if not all humans thirst for. The alchemists hunted for it. Philosophers debated about it and whether it was possible. Scientists experimented with the prospect of it. The list goes on and on.

But, the only beings, human-like in appearance, with "immortality" are the personifications. We are the only "humans" possessing "immortality". But even we can die when our countries fall, or if we feel that we no longer have any place in this reality. Because, after all, the concept of "eternal life", true, unending life, doesn't exist.

Because, in the end, we are all built from the same paper-like substance that serves as flesh, that can be cut so easily, the same hollow casts that form our bones, that can be broken with one fall, and the same delicate, beating hearts, that can be so simply shattered, with one word, just one word. It doesn't matter how you say it, it all means the same thing.

Death.

He's dead.

Lovino's dead.

My big brother's dead.

And he's never coming back.


	2. Chapter 1: Numb

Chapter 1

Numb

Feliciano's P.O.V.

* * *

Numb. Feliciano was numb. He couldn't remember the last time he felt happy. Ever since Lovino had died, he just couldn't feel.

He and his brother had shared a sympathetic connection ever since the unification. It made sense, considering that after the unification, their countries had become one, forming the Kingdom of Italy, and later, when Italians decided to abandon the monarchy in favor of a republic, the Italian Republic.

Feliciano had always felt what Lovino had felt, and Lovino had always felt what Feliciano had felt. So how could Feliciano have been so stupid and insensitive not to have noticed Lovino's increasing depression? He had been so stupid.

But that didn't matter anymore.

Because Lovino was dead.

He wasn't coming back.

And Feliciano wouldn't ever feel emotion again.

It was a resounding emptiness that had filled the gap. Feliciano felt... empty. Alone. Numb.

Was this the price he had to pay for being so stupid as to not notice that Lovino was hurting?

...but if it was, that was a punishment he could damn well take. No one could help him now. Ludwig couldn't even touch him. Japan couldn't reach him. Sebastian and Antonio were just as destroyed as Feliciano was, and they both were too distracted to do much more than curl up in a ball and cry. The only difference between all of their current states is that Sebastian and Antonio actually let their friends help and comfort them, at least to the best of their abilities. Feliciano, on the other hand, was inconsolable.

Feliciano was alone.

No matter how desperately he tried, he was incapable of ever loving again.

But that was okay with him.

After all, without Lovino, where was the point of love?

Without Lovino, Felicano was empty.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.


	3. Chapter 2: Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to note: Most of the micronations don't have canon names so I used fanon names. (Seborga- Sebastian, Peter- Sealand, Wendy- Wy, Sean- Molossia, Leopold- Kugelmugel, Hudson- Hutt River, Riku- Nikoniko) I hope you like this!

Chapter 2

Guilt

Seborga's P.O.V.

* * *

_Guilt._ Such a terrible word. A word that cut so deep and spilled once-innocent blood. A word that implied deep pain, implied some sort of great loss that caused it, required the sort of patronizing _pity_ filled with this _kindness_ , a steely mask covering any trace of true emotion.

_Guilt. A word that perfectly described how Sebastian was feeling._

It had been months since Lovino's death, and that feeling had still remained.

Of course it did. It was only natural.

Because, after all, his brother had died and Sebastian wasn't even there. He hadn't even found out about Lovino's state until Feliciano and Antonio had sent out a group text to everyone, in tears, saying that Lovino had attempted suicide and they were at a small hospital, but he probably wouldn't make it. He'd died of blood loss and his injuries no more than an hour later.

Sebastian hadn't even gotten to see his brother one last time, let alone talk to him.

He'd run from his house to the nearest airport immediately after receiving the message, but he wasn't quick enough.

He had arrived minutes after Lovino was pronounced dead, panicking and wanting to cry, to a sterile, bland hospital room containing his brother's dead body, a flatlining heart monitor, and Feliciano, clinging to his brother's dead body gone limp, and screaming, screaming for him to wake up, this had to be a nightmare, this couldn't possibly be happening. Doctors tried to pry him off, but he wouldn't be deterred, and refused to let go, all the while Antonio had sat in a corner, twitching and softly crying to himself.

Ludwig and Kiku had been there too, looking like they had seen a ghost. They might as well have had. Feliciano was a ghost of himself, a mess of snotty emotions and tears and screams. Feliciano, no matter how sad, never lashed out like this, screaming, crying, swearing, and shaking. In the end, the doctors had to sedate him, so they could remove Lovino's corpse and transport it to the morgue. Feliciano had collapsed to the ground and Ludwig and Kiku rushed forward to catch and comfort him.

Later, they all had regretted letting the doctors tranquilize him. Ever since that outburst, Feliciano had shown little to none emotion.

He had become tersely, laconically, stoically numb.

During all of this, Antonio had just sat there, twitching, shaking, and softly crying.

Francis and Gilbert had shown up minutes later.

During all of this, Sebastian had stood there, shaking, with his hand clasped to his mouth in openmouthed, abject horror, as if to keep himself from screaming.

_No._

_No._

_No._

_This is just some sick joke, right?_

_There's no way this could be happening._

_Don't leave us!_

Francis, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Kiku had quietly, mournfully, conversed for a moment, and upon deciding on what to do, flagged down a taxi, and dragged us down to the Italian World Meeting Hall. They had sent out a blast message to everyone, saying that Lovino was dead, and we were all to meet up.

Quickly, everyone had started showing up.

First, Elizaveta and Roderich, then Lili and Vasch, followed by Lucille, then Arthur, Ivan, and Heracles... bit by bit, over the course of several hours, all of the personifications had shown up, some quiet and numb with shock, some crying, and some trying to comfort their friends.

But all Sebastian could recall is the onrushing, absolutely crushing feeling of guilt.

_No!_

_I'm sorry, Feli!_

_This can't be happening..._

_I was too late._

After that meet-up, and later, after the funeral, the micronations had all holed up together, in Sebastian's house, their unspoken, silent, reason being to keep an eye on Sebastian.

To reach him.

Because, during all of this, he couldn't shed a tear.

Guilt had made him numb.

He wanted to cry and scream, but his tears and his voice and his will just weren't there.

So he'd content himself with curling up in a ball, shaking, quietly rocking himself, with his friends nearby, always nearby.

Always guilty. _Swamped with guilt._

Peter, Wendy, Sean, Leopold, Hudson, and even Riku had all tried their hand at reaching him, but no luck.

He was _unreachable._

_Untouchable._

_Unapproachable._

He had been made _sullen_ by guilt.

It was _consuming, suffocating, smothering_.

For all his friends knew, he was a completely different person.

But that's normal.

That's just what guilt does to a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I probably should have said earlier, for those of you suffering from depression and considering suicide, don't do it. I guarentee you, you are loved, people do care for you, even if you don't see it, and there will be plenty of people who would be incredibly sad if you died. Don't do it. Suicide is not a good option. I promise you, things will get better. I promise. (Slightly sad change of topic, but it needed to be said. You are loved. There will always be someone out there who loves you and would be sad if you died.)


	4. Chapter 3: Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, unless I decide otherwise, this should be the last chapter. I don't have any intention to write another chapter, but my friend (you know who you are) might have something else to say about that. But I'm pretty happy about the way this ends, so I don't intend to write any more of this. Then again, that could change. But for now, consider this done. 
> 
> Some things to note before starting this chapter: I didn't list a birthday year for Romano because I didn't know what I should put. You could give quite a few dates as an answer for that. If you have any suggestions, please tell me, I want to hear them. Also 13 apparently is a lucky number in Italy. I do not own You Are my Sunshine by Johnny Cash or Hetalia.

Chapter 3

Rain

Spain's P.O.V.

* * *

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,_

_You make me happy when skies are gray,_

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,_

_Please don't take my sunshine away."_

* * *

Antonio walked to his destination, head bowed down in the rain. It poured down, sticking his hair to his face, but he didn't care. It certainly wasn't any worse than staying curled up in his bedroom, his sheets plastered to his face with tears, with only Gilbert and Francis for comfort. Granted, many other nations had tried to comfort him, but he had only accepted it from his closest friends. But even then, their pity was suffocating. He had left his house, for the first time in months, with a specific destination in mind, determined to get away from their pity.

He didn't want their pity. He only wanted Lovino back. His sunshine.

* * *

_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine"_

* * *

As he walked in the rain, the rain, pouring down, brought back memories. Lovino as a child, eating a ripe, bright red, tomato. Lovino, slightly older, yelling at him because Antonio was annoying him. The smile on Lovino's face that lit up upon seeing a plentiful tomato harvest, one year, long, long ago.

Despite himself, Antonio smiled a faint, sad, smile. But he could only imagine how fake it looked on the outside.

* * *

_"You make me happy when skies are gray"_

* * *

But that smile quickly turned into a frown. Lovino was dead now. And Antonio was partially to blame for that. He'd never thought that Lovino had been that hurt when he'd attempted to trade him for Feliciano. No one had blamed him for Lovino's death, not even Feliciano or Sebastian, but Antonio blamed himself. He should've noticed that Lovino was hurting. He should've known. Lovino had died thinking that Antonio didn't love him. He'd died thinking that he was alone. Useless. Unwanted. And now he was buried, in a small, tiny, little graveyard that was mainly meant for nations. Now he was dead and gone. Gone.

And now he'd never know.

How much Antonio really loved him.

* * *

_"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,"_

* * *

Looking up now, Antonio realize that he at arrived at his destination. He sidestepped sepulchers, until he had found the gravestone.

.oOo.

Lovino Vargas

Italian Rebublic (Rupubblica Italiana), Southern Italy

March 17, ? - April 29, 2017

A beloved friend and brother.

He will be missed.

.oOo.

Antonio collapsed to his knees, all of a sudden feeling very numb. Racking trembles shook his body, and he started to blink quickly and frantically, trying to stop the tears from coming. The rain seemed to increase. But the blinking failed and the tears gave in.

"Dammit!"

He rest his head against the headstone, as more tears slid down his cheeks. Why? Why did Lovino, his little sunshine, have to do this?

Because now Lovino was gone.

He wasn't coming back.

He'd never know how much Antonio, Feliciano, and the others loved and needed him.

He was dead.

Gone.

That was all it took. Antonio crumpled tighter into a ball as he screamed, sobbed, shook, and cried, not bothering to attempt to muffle the sound. He lay his gift down beside the grave. Thirteen red roses and thirteen ripe, bright red, tomatoes.

"I'm sorry Lovino."

"I'm so sorry."

"I wish this was a nightmare."

"Please forgive me."

"Please..."

* * *

_"Please don't take my sunshine away."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, the conclusion. Please don't kill me for emotionally torturing these characters. I really do love them, I swear. I just like to torture them. (Ok, Inky, time to shut up now.) Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This was based this off of a story prompt I saw online. Basically, to clear any possible confusion, in this chapter Feliciano is narrating after experiencing Lovino's death in Inklings of Emotion.


End file.
